Free Crusade by Unknown Page B

but the Temple’s black-and-white banner fluttered madly from the mast.
    The marshal, Peter de Sevrey, the Temple’s chief military official, left in charge during the grand master’s absence, was waiting in front of the company of knights. He was deep in conversation with one of the customs officers and Theobald Gaudin, the Temple’s grand commander. The seneschal was also there. Will made out his stiff, upright form. Behind the customs building, which dominated the dockside, the city walls stretched right and left; the massive iron gates that led into the city were open on the busy Pisan market. A confusion of sounds and smells drifted from the market to mingle with the shouts of fishermen hauling nets engorged with fish onto the harbor wall and the thick smell of pitch from a boat repairer’s. Seeing the Templar warship out in the bay and the knights arranged in stately formation, a small crowd had gathered, filtering through the city gates.
    As Will’s eyes roved over the onlookers, his gaze was caught by a young girl. Uninterested in the approaching galley, she was playing with a ball, tossing it into the air and catching it. She was walking slowly, coming toward the knights. Will’s breath caught in his throat. He turned away sharply.
    “What’s wrong?” asked Robert.
    “Nothing.” Will glanced surreptitiously over his shoulder to check where she was. His heart stopped. The girl was looking straight at him.
    Her eyes lit up and she grinned widely. “Weel!” She skipped over, the skirts of her yellow dress trailing over the damp stones, silvery with fish scales.
    “Who the hell is that?” murmured Robert.
    “Cover for me,” Will urged quietly, then stepped out of formation and went to meet her.
    “She must be lost,” he heard Robert saying cheerily to the curious knights in their row. “Don’t worry, he’ll help her find her parents. Ever the good Samaritan, Will.”
    The girl bounced up, her unruly hair flopping in her eyes. She flicked it back with a careless toss of her head and grinned. “Where you been? I’m not seeing you for weeks!” Her lilting Italian accent made her English sound foreign.
    “What are you doing here, Catarina?” Will asked, steering her gently away from the knights. He looked worriedly over at the marshal and grand commander, but they were still talking with the customs officer and hadn’t noticed his departure from the ranks. Will led Catarina behind a stack of crates that were being loaded onto a merchant galley. The crewmen were stamping up and down the gangplanks. “Are you here on your own?” Will repeated the question slowly when Catarina frowned blankly.
    “My sister,” Catarina said after a moment. “I here with Elisabetta.” She giggled and then dissolved into a stream of rapid Italian, which Will didn’t understand a word of.
    “You should go to Elisabetta,” Will told her. “I have to get back.” He pointed to the knights.
    Catarina pouted and flipped her ball into the air, catching it deftly. “You no come to my house? Elwen no working today.”
    Will shook his head. “I cannot. Not now.” He bent so that he was eye level with Catarina. “Will Elwen be at home tomorrow?”
    Catarina nodded after a pause. “Night.” She grinned slyly. “You kith her?” She frowned intently. “Kiss.”
    Will gave an embarrassed laugh. “Elwen’s taught you another new word, has she? Never mind,” he said as Catarina looked puzzled. “Tell Elwen I’ll come to her after Vespers tomorrow. Do you understand? After Vespers.”
    “I tell her,” Catarina said solemnly. “I go now.” She threw a hand in the vague direction of the city wall.
    Will saw a slender, raven-haired girl standing just inside the gates, talking with a woman. He recognized Elisabetta, the eldest daughter of the Venetian silk merchant, Andreas di Paolo. “Don’t tell your sister,” he reminded Catarina. “Or your father.” He watched as Catarina skipped off.
    “Excuse me,